A Love Against All Odds
Disclaimer: Pokémon is the registered property of Nintendo, Game Freak, 4Kids Entertainment, and Satoshi Tajiri. The Titanic is the property of the Atlantic Ocean.
Summary: Set in 1912. Ash and Misty have never met, being on opposite ends of the social ladder. But when fate brings them together on the Titanic, will their newfound love be enough to overcome what lies ahead?
A/N: This has absolutely nothing to do with the show at all, I just used the characters. I tried to avoid making this sound like the 1997 movie Titanic, but if I did, I'll kick my own butt.
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Ash - 17
Misty - 19
Tracey - 21
Brock - 25
Gary - 17
Others: Who really cares? It's an Ash and Misty love story, they're the only ones that matter!
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"Wow..." breathed the young woman as she looked up at the massive ship. "Look at that...it's so big!"
"Misty, please!" her eldest sister, Daisy, shushed her.
Misty raised an eyebrow. "What?" she said.
"Do you realize where we are? We're about to board the R.M.S Titanic! You don't know how important it is for us to be on our best behavior!"
"We're going to be surrounded by some of the most important people in the world on that boat," her second-eldest sister, Lily, said.
Misty, always the logical one, folded her arms. "No, we're not," she said. "You know as well as me that they're just going to stick us in the bottom of the ship where we won't cause trouble for the rich brats."
"Misty!" her last sister, Violet, hissed. "Quit being such a little brat!"
"Little?" Misty echoed. "You seem to forget that I'm nineteen years old!"
"But you're still younger than us, and we say you're being a little brat!"
Misty sighed. There was no winning with her sisters, especially not after they had all been abandoned by their parents. All four had decided that it was time they move on anyway, and Daisy had managed to grab four tickets to the Titanic, although Misty really didn't care to know how she did it.
The four sisters heard a sound behind them and turned to see two of their male friends walking up behind them, overflowing bags slung over their shoulders. One was a tall man, with dark skin and eyes that were narrow enough to make people wonder if he actually had eyes, and the other was a younger boy with spiky brown hair and dark brown eyes that always carried a bit of an egotistical expression.
The older man stepped up to Daisy and took her hand. "You do not know how pleasurable it is for me to see you again," he said, winking at her.
Misty rolled her eyes. "Oh, please..." she muttered.
Daisy, although slightly flattered, pulled her hand away. "I've told you before, Brock, I'm not interested in you!" she said.
"He will be that way until the day he dies," the other boy said, turning to Misty. "Well, are you excited about this voyage?"
Misty nodded. "You bet I am, Gary," she said.
Brock looked up at the massive hull of the ship. "Wow," he said. "I can feel it...I just know that I'm going to meet my woman here..."
Misty couldn't help but smile. Brock had always been a bit of a playboy, and although he once did have a serious relationship with a girl, she had pretty much broken up with him because of their age difference. Now, he was just a bit of an idiot. He tried to get every girl he could. He had even tried his hand at seducing Misty, although that had been the biggest waste of his time that he had ever had.
"You?" Daisy said. "And a girl?"
Gary sighed. "He is going to be like that until the day he dies," he said. "Well, let's get on this ship and get out of here!"
Lily raised her eyebrows. "You're coming, too?" she asked.
Brock broke off his daydream. "Of course we are!" he said. "Gary and I managed to get a hold of two tickets."
"Managed to get a hold of?" Misty repeated. "You didn't kill anyone, did you?"
Gary made a face. "I'm appalled by your accusations!" he said in a fake accent. "Of course we didn't! We just...borrowed them from some drunk guy in an alley."
"Idiots," Violet muttered.
"Hey, when you're at the bottom of the food chain, you do what you can to survive!" Brock said. "Now, let's go before they leave us behind!" (In case you haven't guessed, Misty, her sisters, Brock and Gary are all in third class, the lowest you could go on the social ladder. Third class people were almost always strictly segregated from first and second class people.)
* * *
Meanwhile, at almost the other end of the ship, an expensive-looking car pulled up, after honking its way through the throngs of people. A dignified-looking young man, of no more than nineteen years, stepped out of the car and peered up at the ship from under the brim of his bowler hat. "She is marvelous," he said, half to himself, half to the man who climbed out of the car after him. "Definitely the most impressive ship I've ever seen."
"Ashton, the only other ship you have ever seen is the Lusitania," the man reminded his acquaintance.
Ashton looked back at his vacationing partner. It was strange that after five years of knowing the man, he had never learned his real name. An accomplished artist, he usually went by the nickname 'Tracey', (A/N: Well, you try looking for a man named Tracey on the Titanic! I had to make up some excuse!) but only around close friends. Other people just didn't know his name at all. "Yes, well, it's not like I get to travel that often," he said. "And I thought I told you to call me Ash."
Tracey smiled a bit. "You can never forget about that, can you?" he said.
Ash sighed. "Well, you try being told that the only way you can inherit your parents fortune is if you marry before you turn twenty. I only have three years left!"
"I don't think you're that concerned about it, though," Tracey reminded him.
"No, I don't think so, either," Ash replied. "If I don't meet someone who I truly want to marry before I'm twenty, than the fortune can go to charity. I don't care anymore. If I am to marry, I want it to be with someone special, who will share her life with me, not hide from me."
Tracey nodded as he followed Ash towards the ship. "Society these days just doesn't look upon love in the way it should...women seem to be nothing more than prizes to be claimed. It's a rare man indeed that looks for love before marriage. Most learn to love after they have married."
"I agree," Ash said, handing his ticket to the officer standing on deck. Tracey did the same. Both were greeted with a warm welcome. It was no surprise to either. "You know, it's amazing how you have been able to keep such a low profile. Does anyone know your real name at all?"
Tracey sighed. "My parents," he replied. "That's about it."
"So who are you on the passenger manifest this time?" (Titanic fact: Many passengers did sail under false names)
"Same as I always am," Tracey said.
"Somehow, I can't believe that people don't catch on that you're an artist when you list yourself as 'Tracey Sketchit' every voyage you sail on."
"People see the name, not the person," Tracey reasoned as they made their way to the top deck for the departure. "I have never once had someone come up to me and ask if I was that name."
Ash smiled. "Lucky you," he said. "Meanwhile, I'm going to have every person on this ship ask me if I plan on marrying and if I'll consider their daughter as my wife...it's crazy is what it is. If I'm going to meet someone, I'm going to meet them on my own, with no one else's help."
"You are a really stubborn young man, you know that, Ash?"
Ash smiled at Tracey. "You better believe I am," he replied. "How else am I here, on the grandest ship in the world?"
The duo had finally reached the top deck, where hundreds of people were gathered, waving to loved ones on the deck below, or just waving in order to say goodbye to the flat countryside of England. Ash had never cared for England that much, it had actually been France that had been his destination. But after vacationing in France for about a month, he had heard that his old friend Tracey was in England and the two had met in London. After about two weeks, they had learned of the Titanic's maiden voyage and had decided that now was as good a time as any to leave and return to America.
Ash looked at the paper in his hands, a sort of itinerary for the next few days on the Titanic. "Look at this, Tracey," he said. "I could have just stayed in France. The Titanic is making a stop at Cherbourg tonight."
Tracey looked over at him. "Well, I never knew that, so..." he said.
"Yeah, I get it," Ash said. He sighed as he looked over the harbour. "Well, here's saying goodbye to my last vacation as either a single man, or a wealthy man." He raised one arm to wave at the throngs of people.
"And here's saying goodbye to my inspiration," Tracey said, mimicking Ash's gesture.
"Come on, now, I'm sure you can find plenty of inspiration on this ship," Ash said, although it was getting hard to hear over the cries of 'I'll miss you!' and 'I love you' coming from the people gathered on deck.
"Yes, but...somehow, different countries always serve me better."
Ash smiled at his friend. Although his work was quite famous and some of it was even featured in world-famous galleries, Tracey had little confidence in his work as an artist. That was part of his success, Ash reasoned, because he was always trying to improve, and was always improving because of his low esteem in his work. Either that, or it was just dumb luck.
* * *
Misty set her bags down on the cold floor. The cabin before her was nothing to sneeze at, although she was sure that the upper classes had way better accommodations. She sighed. "Well, I have to say that it's an improvement over the last ship we were on," she said.
"Probably because the last ship we were on was fifteen years ago, when you were four. Of course they've improved ship design," Daisy said. She flopped down onto a bed, which was nothing more than metal with a cot in the middle. She was glad to be away from Brock, since he and Gary had long ago left to find their own cabins at the other end of the ship. (Titanic fact: Men and women in third class were berthed at separate ends of the ship, men at the bow, women at the stern, and families amidships)
Misty sighed at the reasonably noticeable crankiness of her eldest sister. She understood why, though. Daisy, Lily, and Violet had always been way too dependent on their parents. Misty, although incredibly close to her mother, was always a free spirit, doing whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted. It was no surprise to her that her father had taken her mother away. "Why be bothered with it unless you can change it?" was what she always said.
"Honestly, Misty, you seem to not even care that we've been abandoned!" Lily whined.
Misty climbed up to the top bunk that was nearest the single porthole in the room. "Lily, there comes a time when you've got to realize that Daisy's twenty-five years old, you're twenty-three, and Violet's twenty-one. There's a line between abandoned and time to move on to our own lives!" She sighed. "You know, they say that this is the most romantic ship in the world...the Ship of Dreams..."
Lily rolled her eyes. Misty and Violet were what their mother had called the 'romantics'. The two of them were always looking at things with a romantic spin on them, but Misty was never one to be made fun of. She was definitely the most complicated of the four, loving her sisters to death one minute, and screaming at them the next.
Violet leaned her chin on the bunk where Misty now sat. "Really?" she said. "Are you hoping to find the man of your dreams here?"
Misty looked at her sister and smiled. "Hardly likely, huh?"
Violet hopped up onto the bunk. "Aw, what kind of an attitude is that, sis? Just imagine, sparks fly on ships, especially ones that are on their maiden voyages! Just think about it, girl, you could find your soulmate on this ship!"
"And she can finally leave us alone," Daisy muttered.
Violet picked up the pillow off of the bunk and threw it at Daisy. "Why can't you just be happy that we're on our way to America, to a fresh start?"
"Because we happen to be without our parents, the people that we're supposed to be with!"
"Misty's right about one thing," Violet said. "It is time for us to move on. I mean, think about those first-class girls up there, most of them are probably seventeen years old and married to thirty-year-old men!"
"A little too old for me," Misty said, a smirk on her face.
"Same here," Violet agreed. "Oh, well."
Misty hopped down. "I'm going to head off," she said. "I want to do some exploring." She wandered down to the lounge, where she met up with Brock and Gary. "Hey, Misty!" Brock called - he'd obviously already had a few drinks.
Misty walked over. "So you found the bar, did you?" she said.
Gary was standing a few feet away. "Yeah," he said. "And he's already been slapped in the face by about half of the third-class passengers. I suppose it may be a good thing that they keep us in separate areas than the higher classes. That way, he can't make a fool out of all of us up there."
Misty looked up towards the ceiling. "I wonder what it's like up there?" she wondered, only half intending for it to come out loud.
"Caviar...cigars...wine..." Brock said. "They've probably got everything they need up there, while we're forced to drink cheap booze and eat semi-edible crap..."
"I sense hostility," Misty said with a smile.
"You sense a heckuva lot more than just hostility," Brock said.
Misty shook her head and left to explore a bit more. She found her way out to the stern deck, or, as it was so fondly called, the poop deck. She enjoyed the rush of wind through her long orangey hair as she leaned up against the rail. It was getting dark. The ship would be docking at Cherbourg soon, and then it was on to Queenstown, Ireland, and then, nothing but ocean until they reached New York.
She turned around so she could look up at the higher decks. "Awfully quiet for this time," she remarked, before reminding herself that the first-class people were probably at dinner. Their dinners usually lasted for hours, sometimes with dessert being served at ten at night. But a lone figure caught her attention. It was a young man with jet black hair standing on one of the first-class decks. She squinted to get a better look at him. He looked like he was upset or something, Misty couldn't tell. Finally, he walked away and she was left to nothing but the memory.
* * *
Ash sighed as he and Tracey walked through the dining salon. It wasn't a sigh of dissatisfaction - the dining salon was enough to take his breath away - but boredom. He just didn't feel like eating another fancy meal with more fancy people. He thought for a moment about just saying he was sick and leaving, but that wouldn't do his family's name too well, to just hide out for the rest of the voyage. After all, Tracey was usually right when he predicted things, and he was predicting that Ash would fall head-over-heels in love by the time they reached New York.
The two of them took a seat at their table, which was inhabited by six other people, four men and two women. Ash introduced himself while Tracey kept silent and just sat down.
One of the men nodded in recognition of Ash's name. "Ah, yes," he said. "I met your father once. Charming man, he was. I hear you are in the search for a bride, young man. I know of several young ladies who are dying to meet you."
Ash gave a weak smile. "Thank you, but it's not on the top of my priority list right now," he said.
"You mean you don't even wish to meet anyone?"
Ash sighed. "I suppose I could always stand to meet someone new," he said, although he found it difficult to imagine that he could ever feel emotionally attached to a first-class woman. He knew that it was unfair to judge women based on their social status, but it was his experience that told him that most women just wanted to marry and get to work on the family, they didn't care to get to know the man at all before marrying them.
"Well, for starters, let me introduce my lovely daughter, Margaret."
A lovely young woman with flowing blond hair and piercing blue eyes stood up. "Delighted to meet you," she said in a soft voice which could have easily been mistaken for music.
"And my niece, Christine."
A dark-haired woman stood up. Ash immediately took her name off of his list. He had never been one to judge by looks, but the woman was way too beauty-impaired for even his liking.
Tracey, obviously amused by the whole thing, smiled smugly at Ash as he sat back down. "Well, there you go," he said.
Ash rolled his eyes, making sure to shut his eyelids first so no one saw. He stood up yet again. "I'm sorry, but will you excuse me?" he said. "I suppose I'm just not that hungry tonight. I'll eat in my room later."
Tracey found him outside, wandering the promenade deck aimlessly. "Ash, what's bugging you?"
Ash sighed. "Do you think it's impossible to find a woman who is both smart and beautiful?"
Tracey looked at his friend. "All right, Ash, I have to ask you this...are you actually lovesick?"
Ash made a face. "How can I be lovesick when I haven't met anyone?"
"You know what I mean, Ash," Tracey said. "Do you want to meet someone?"
Ash sighed. "If you want to know the truth, you have to promise not to judge me by it."
"Promise," Tracey said.
"I saw this girl last night...I was just out for some air...and there she was...but...she was down in third class...her clothes were just in tatters...but she was so beautiful...she had hair the shade of a fire..."
Tracey raised his eyebrows. "That's it," he said. "You've got it, and you got it bad."
"What?" Ash said.
"I think it's best that you not come out here anymore, because I know you're going to try and meet her, and that would be the end of your family's name."
"Yes, I know...a first-class man with a third-class woman..."
"But on the other hand, I'm an artist. What do I know?" Tracey said. He winked and walked away.
Ash thought about that. Tracey was telling him to go meet her, he knew that he was. But...how to do that without upsetting everyone on the social ladder?
* * *
Misty stepped out into the fresh night air once again. Nothing but ocean remained in front of them. Nothing but ocean. She took a deep breath, smelling the sweet scent of salty air. She sighed heavily. "What is it about this ship that is depressing me this way?" she wondered aloud. "Here I am, on the Titanic, and I just want to hide in my room and never come out...I hate this. I hate everything about this...why can't my life be simple?" She turned and looked up towards the first-class area. Surprisingly, she saw someone standing there. The same man that she'd seen before. "He probably just wants to laugh at me, being down here while he's up there," she reasoned to herself. "Why else would he be there?"
To her ultimate surprise, the man turned to talk to a steward and then began to descend a small staircase to the deck where she stood. Her mind raced to figure out a reason why he could be walking towards her like that. Her heart was almost pounding out of her chest. She had never had too many encounters with the rich folk, and this abrupt one was scaring her.
Finally, he stood before her. She noticed that his eyes were a deep chestnut brown and he could probably be classified as the best-looking man she'd seen in her life. She had no clue what to say at all.
He spoke for her. "Hello," he said. "I know this sounds...strange coming from me...but, could I ask you what your name is?"
He was speaking quickly, and Misty thought that she heard his voice wavering. Was he actually nervous about talking to her? Most wealthy people talked slowly to her, as if they expected her to be some kind of retarded person. "My name is Misty," she replied. "And you are?" She wanted to throw out a challenge, to show that she wasn't just any timid third-class person.
"Ashton," he said.
*Geez, even his name sounds rich,* she thought to herself.
"But I really actually prefer to be called Ash," he continued. "It's just that...well, people are so accustomed to calling me by my full name..."
Misty didn't know what to think, so she decided to get on with it. "Well, then, maybe you could tell me why you're here?" she said.
Ash took a deep breath. "Well, the reason would be that...I...couldn't help but notice you out here the last couple of days...and you...I don't know why I was compelled to meet you, but...I was..." He sighed. "You probably think I'm making a fool out of myself right now..."
"Well, yes, you are," Misty said. "But this is interesting."
"I wanted to ask you if you would mind...accompanying me to dinner tomorrow night," Ash said, glad to have gotten it out.
Misty watched him carefully, looking for a sign that he was joking or making fun of her, but there was none. "What?" she said.
"I know you must think that I'm just pulling your leg, but...there's something about you that...interests me..."
Misty looked down at herself. "And you want to take me to dinner up there when I look like this?" she said.
Ash shook his head. "While I was in France I bought some dresses for my cousin...you look to be about her size...please, I just really need to have company."
"Why?"
Ash motioned back to the first-class deck. "You think it's the good life up there, don't you?" he said.
Misty nodded. "Why wouldn't it be? You've got everything up there."
"Everything but the one thing I need," he said. "So...would you join me tomorrow?"
Misty bit her lip, wondering if she was just going to be made fun of the whole time. Finally, she decided that life was for living, not wondering. "Sure, I'll come," she said.
Ash smiled at her, and she realized just how handsome he was. "That's wonderful," he said. "Meet me here tomorrow around five o'clock, okay?"
Misty nodded.
Ash seemed a little reluctant to leave, but he finally turned around and walked back up to his deck.
Misty stood there, staring, for the longest time before she decided to go back to the lounge. The air was biting cold now.
Brock, Gary, and Daisy were there. All three looked at her with icy glares. "Could you explain what that was about?" Brock growled in a tone she had never heard before.
"What was what about?" Misty asked.
"You were talking to that first-class guy," Daisy said. "What did he say to you?"
Misty looked at her sister as if she had just told her that she was an alien. "Nothing," she said.
"Well, you seemed to be talking for a long time, so he must have said something!"
Misty let her mind recall the image of his smiling face. He had been so handsome... "He invited me to dinner with him tomorrow night," she said.
"He WHAT?!" Brock almost exploded. "And you said yes?!"
"Yeah, I did!" Misty said. She hated losing arguments, especially with Brock. "Why is that suddenly a problem?!"
"Misty, he's just going to try and..." Daisy began to speak.
Misty spun around. "Daisy, I'm not an idiot! Don't you think I thought about what he might try to do? I can read people, and he doesn't seem that way!"
"Because those people are trained liars!" Brock said.
Misty matched Brock's tone of voice. "So what?" she said. "It's my life you know!"
"You are not going!" Daisy said.
Misty waved a finger. "I'm nineteen years old," she said. "I can do whatever I want!"
"I'm not letting you go!"
"Hell with you, I'm going!" Misty said. "I think this man actually might like me, and I'm not blind enough to throw away my chance!" She shoved past them all and ran to her cabin.
* * *
Tracey stared at the young man incredulously. "You actually met her?" he said. "You mean you went down there and introduced yourself?"
Ash looked up from the bags he was searching through. "Yes, I did," he said.
Tracey's face broke into a grin. "You always did things your own way," he said. "I'm glad you didn't take my advice." He winked at Ash.
Ash shook his head.
"So what are you doing?" Tracey asked.
"I'm looking for that blue dress I bought for my cousin," Ash said.
"Why?"
"Because I invited that girl for dinner."
"Whoa, she's coming up here?!" Tracey almost squeaked.
"Is there a problem with that?" Ash said.
"No, not at all, I just never expected it. So...what does she look like? What's her name?"
Ash sighed as he thought of the young woman once again. "Her name was Misty," he said dreamily.
Tracey raised one eyebrow and immediately burst into laughter. "Oh, man, Ash, you have it bad!" he said.
"Since when do you call me Ash?" he said, eager to change the subject.
"You were always bothering me about it in England, so I decided to call you that. Now, what does she look like?"
Ash shook his head. "I can't do her justice by describing her...you have to see her yourself to appreciate her real beauty."
"Okaaaaayyy..." Tracey said slowly, obviously concerned about his friend. "You're in love, aren't you?" he asked.
"Love?" Ash repeated. "No. Lust, maybe, but not love. Not until I know get to know her."
"Of course," Tracey said. "So, shouldn't you be looking for that dress?"
"Yes, I should," Ash replied, resuming the task.
* *
Misty waited by the staircase, nervously wringing her hands. Her outburst the night before had somewhat shocked the rest of the group, and they had decided that if something bad were to happen to Misty, she would learn the lesson on her own. Brock and Daisy had been arguing about it before she had left, but nothing was going to stop her from seeing Ash again.
Finally, she saw him descending the stairs. But this time, he had another man with him. The two looked like good friends.
Ash smiled as he walked up to her. "How are you this fine evening?" he asked.
Misty couldn't help but blush. "I'm cold," she said.
Ash nodded. "It is getting quite cold out here," he said.
Misty looked past him to his friend. "And who might you be?" she asked.
"Oh...uh..." Tracey stumbled for an answer.
"He doesn't like people calling him by his real name...he's an artist, you understand, and he likes to keep to himself. Just call him Tracey."
Misty smiled, catching the pun in the name. "Ah," she said. "I gotcha. Hello, Tracey."
Tracey nodded to her. "Hello," he said.
Ash held out his arm for her. "So, how about you follow me?" he said. "I'll get you dressed up."
"Hey, wait!" Tracey said, taking the dress from him."Let me get her dressed. You want to be surprised, don't you, Ash? After all, she is your...um...date tonight."
Ash looked at Misty. "Is that okay with you?" he asked.
Misty nodded and walked off with Tracey. They walked to his stateroom. "Please, don't be shy," he said. "I promise, nothing in here bites."
Misty smiled and stepped in.
Tracey unfolded the dress, a long, ice blue dress with white lace running down the front and back. "Do you like it?" he asked. "Ash picked it out. He thought it would go well with your eyes."
Misty reached out to touch the fabric. "Wow," she breathed. "It is beautiful..."
Tracey smiled. "Ash always knows how to impress the ladies, he just doesn't try," he said.
"What?" Misty said.
Tracey gave himself a mental kick. "Oh, dammit," he muttered. "Well, Ash is going to hate me for telling you this...but...he comes from a very wealthy family...and he's the heir to a twenty-five million dollar fortune, but he can only get it if he marries before he's twenty..."
Misty felt her heart sink. "So he's only..."
Tracey frantically waved his hands. "No, not at all!" he said. "I think he really likes you, Misty! He hasn't ever made an attempt to see a woman until he saw you!"
Misty smiled at him. "Well, you're doing a fine job of covering for him," she said.
"It's my job," Tracey replied. "He has a tendency to get himself into trouble."
Misty nodded and stepped into the washroom to change into the dress. All of her senses were being overwhelmed by the beauty of everything she had seen in first class so far. And as she looked at herself in the mirror, the soft fabric falling around her, she truly realized for the first time what Ash must have seen in her. "Wow," she said to her reflection. "I really am beautiful..."
Tracey's eyes widened when she stepped back out. "Wow, you look great!" he said. "Ash is going to be blown away!"
Misty smiled. "So, what did you say you did?" she asked as he began to work on her hair.
Tracey spoke around the hairpins in his mouth. "I'm an artist," he said.
"Really?" Misty said. "I've never heard of you."
"Tracey's not my real name," Tracey said. "And I only sign my name on my paintings, that's all. No one really knows who I am, just my work."
"What do you specialize in?" Misty asked.
Tracey shrugged. "Whatever gives me inspiration, I guess. If I see something that gives me that feeling, I paint it."
"I want to be a writer," Misty said. "But...I'm too poor to even buy the supplies..."
"A writer, hmmm?" Tracey said. "Tell you what. I can get you a job at the newspaper in town if you don't have anything else to do."
Misty smiled. "Thank you," she said. "But I'm not sure if I would be any good...I like writing stories, not facts."
"Of course," Tracey said. He stuck the last pin into Misty's hair. "There you are," he said.
Misty stood up and walked to a mirror. She had to do a double-take, she was so surprised.
"Didn't think you could look like that, did you?" Tracey said.
"No," Misty said.
"You're a beautiful young woman," Tracey said. "And I know that Ash is going to be blown away when he sees you."
* * *
Ash stood at the bottom of the Grand Staircase, awaiting the arrival of Misty and Tracey. He felt his heart pounding. Why was it that he was so nervous? He couldn't be in love with her already, could he?
His heart answered him with a resounding 'yes!'. The very second that he had heard the soft sound of her voice, he had known that he had been waiting his whole life for her. There was no question about it. He felt his eyes burn for a second. He had never felt like this in his life. It had to be love, there was nothing else it could be!
His breath caught in his throat as he saw her, walking arm-in-arm down the stairs with Tracey. She looked absolutely gorgeous in the dress he had chosen for her. He stepped up to the bottom of the stairs as they reached the bottom. "Wow," he said. "Misty...you...look...wow..."
Misty couldn't help but smile. "And you look great, too," she said. She was overwhelmed by the sight of sunlight streaming through the huge dome above them, glancing off the oak paneling and dancing in Ash's eyes...
Tracey gave Ash a crooked smile. "Well, you two, I'm off to mingle. Have fun."
Ash looked lost the second Tracey walked away. He had never actually been left alone with a woman, much less a woman that he was in love with.
Misty flashed him an amused grin. "Well, you're sure the talkative one," she said, lacing her arm through his. "Aren't you going to take me to dinner to meet all your friends?"
Ash raised an eyebrow. "Friends?" he repeated. "Misty, if I could, I would be in third class with you. You'll see how stuffy it gets. I'd rather be at one of your parties than up here, talking about politics and things."
"How old are you, Ash?" Misty asked. "I never asked before."
"I'm seventeen," Ash replied. "What about you?"
"Nineteen," Misty replied. "Although you would never know it if you met my sisters."
"Why?" Ash asked. He knew that it wasn't 'proper' to delve into a girl's personal life, but he felt like he could take some chances with this one.
"They're always treating me like I'm five. They're all in their twenties and they're still upset over our parents ditching us."
"What?"
Misty looked at him. "I suppose I'm boring you, going on with my life story."
Ash shook his head. "No, you're not," he said. "I'm interested. I want to get to know everything about you."
Misty saw no sign that he was lying in his eyes, so she smiled. "Do you? Me, a measly third-class girl?" She wanted to play him until she found out the real plan behind all of this.
Ash fell serious. "Yes, you," he said. "I know it's hard for you to trust someone like me...trained liars, some people call the upper class."
"Yes," Misty said softly, remembering what Brock had said.
"Truth is, being up here...it can suffocate you. That's why I wanted to meet you so badly, because you seem like a girl who can show me something else to life besides caviar and wine and expensive stuff. A man on this ship bought a quilt for his wife that cost eight hundred dollars in Queenstown...I see no reason for it."
Misty could see tears in his eyes as they descended the Grand Staircase towards the dining area. *He really does hate it up here...* she thought. *I suppose I could take him down to the party tonight...but I have to make sure that Brock don't find out.* Before she could stop herself, the words were coming from her lips. "Would you like to come down to our party tonight?" she asked. "They're a lot of fun and they go on into the late hours like you would never believe..."
Ash looked at her and smiled. There was something about her, everything she said made him smile. He was actually starting to believe in soulmates as he walked along with her. "I would love to, Misty," he said.
Misty felt her face go hot. What was going on? She was actually blushing, and the feel of his arm linked with hers felt so right, like it was where she was meant to be. They say this is the most romantic ship in the world...her words from the day they had departed rang in her head. The most romantic ship in the world, and she was falling in love. It seemed too good to be true. "Good," she said. "I'm getting rather sick of dancing with my sister's friends, it would be nice to have someone of my own to dance with."
Ash raised his eyebrows. Could that mean that she was falling for him? Nah, she was just probably lonely. "Well, here we are," he said. "Just pretend you're rich and they'll love you. No one up here knows who you are, so...unless Tracey gets drunk and blows your cover later tonight in the smoking room..."
Misty couldn't help but laugh.
"I know, he can get a little wacky at times, but he's mostly calm."
Misty looked around as they walked through the doors to the dining saloon. The room was carpeted in blue, except for a small area, which she assumed people used for dancing. The tables and chairs were all white, and chandeliers hung from the ceiling. She felt like the Queen as Ash led her to a table.
Tracey was already there, discussing something with the man who had tried to fix Ash up. Closer inspection revealed that Tracey was showing him a fairly recent sketch that he had done of the Grand Staircase.
"I see you've gotten over your fear of letting people see your work," Ash said.
Tracey looked up. "Yes, well..." He cleared his throat.
The man nodded towards Misty. "And who is your acquaintance?"
Ash beamed proudly. "This is Misty," he said. "I just met her the other day, and she agreed to come to dinner with me."
"Ah," the man said. "I suppose I've never introduced myself. My name is Archibald, but you may call me Archie." He took Misty's hand in his own and kissed the back of it, a tradition.
"Lovely to meet you," Misty said.
Ash looked at her with a bit of a smile. She was fitting in just fine, and had already fooled half the people there into thinking that she was another wealthy young woman on her way home to America.
They sat and ordered dinner, and Misty could see why Ash hated being up here so much. The conversation was dull and having to sit with her back straight was really beginning to annoy her.
The band began to play a slow song, one that Misty didn't recognize, and she saw couples get up to dance.
"Misty, would you...care to dance?" Ash asked her.
Misty spun to look at him with a hint of surprise. Then, she smiled. "I would love to," she said.
Ash led her to the dance floor and pulled her close, wrapping an arm around her waist. His heart was screaming at him by now, the closeness of her body driving him crazy.
Misty placed one hand in his and the other on his shoulder. She let him lead, since she had no idea what she was doing. But one thing was for sure - she was falling for him. There was no doubt left in her mind. She didn't even care that they were on opposite sides of the social ladder. Her eyes began to well up as she watched him. He was a natural at dancing, it was no wonder why he was so sought after by women. Handsome, smart, and a wonderful dancer. *What did I do to deserve this? * she asked herself.
The song ended way too soon and the two of them returned to their seats. Tracey nudged Ash and gave him a look that said Man, you've got it worse than I thought! He quickly hid the sketch that he'd been working on of the two of them dancing.
After dinner had ended, Ash and Misty headed out to a staircase that led back to third class. Misty's hands started to shake. What if Daisy and them found her dancing with this first-class man?
"If you don't want me to come down, I won't," Ash said.
Misty shook her head. "I want you to come, but I don't want anyone to find you! They'll hate you and they'll make you hate me, and..."
Ash pulled her close, their dance removing all fear of closeness from his heart. "Misty, no one could make me hate you, nothing will. I promise you that."
Misty blinked back tears from her eyes. "I don't want to go down there, that's the problem," she said. "Because if I do, they'll never let me up here and I'll never see you again..."
Ash felt his heart sink as he saw a few tears trickle down her cheeks. His mind was screaming two things at once to him - one, that he would never really be able to be with her, and two, that he should forget about that stuff and kiss her.
Misty looked up at him. "Ash...will I see you again?" she asked.
Ash nodded. "Of course you will," he said.
Misty didn't believe him, he could see that.
Finally, the half of his mind that wanted to kiss her took over and he leaned forward, capturing her lips with his own.
Misty felt a jolt of emotion rush through her body. She was startled, to say the least, but she found it in her to kiss him back. Her hands found their way up his body to become entangled in his hair.
Ash's heart was pounding. Misty was the first woman he had ever even wanted to kiss, and now the dream was playing out into reality. He placed a hand on the back of her neck and one around her waist to bring her closer to him.
Finally, the two had to break off to breathe. Both were more than a little unnerved by what they had just did, but had no regrets. Ash smiled at her. "How about I give you some time to think things over and I'll come get you tomorrow?" he whispered.
Misty nodded. "Okay," she whispered back. But before she descended the staircase, she looked back to say one last thing - "Ash, I love you."
Ash's face broke into a huge grin. "I love you, too," he said.
It was Misty's turn to grin. "Really?"
"Would I have kissed you if I didn't?" he said.
Misty shook her head. "Well, goodnight," she said.
Ash watched as she disappeared from sight. *What is everyone going to think, me, dating a third-class woman? An older third-class woman at that...* After a moment of mental debating, he decided that he really didn't care. He just had to see her again...
* * *
Daisy, Lily, Gary, and Brock were all waiting at the stateroom when she got back. "Well, fancy digs, there, Misty," Brock said, every word dripping with disdain.
Misty looked down at her dress. She had never asked Ash if he wanted it back.
"I suppose you had fun up there?" Daisy said.
"Yes, I did have a good time," Misty said.
"Misty, you just don't get it, do you?" Lily said. "There's no way that you could ever be with this man!"
"Why not?" Misty said, determined not to yell.
"Because it will never be a real love! Whether you admit it or not, you're just after his money! You just want to be rich, that's all!"
Misty turned to Brock, fire in her eyes. "Who are you to be lecturing me about love?!" she cried. "Since when was it your duty to approve of my love life?!"
"Misty..."
"No!" Misty yelled, her voice echoing off of the steel pipes in the room. "I won't let you mess this thing up for me! I love him and that's all there is to it!"
Daisy stormed up to her and slapped her across the face. "Misty, wake up!" she cried. "This man is not the one for you!"
Misty held her cheek, where she was sure Daisy's handprint was showing up. Her eyes began to well up with tears. She had been so happy a few minutes ago, and now...she turned from the room and ran. She ran up to the poop deck and almost to the end of the ship, where she finally collapsed into a sobbing heap. She wanted to be with Ash, she needed to hear his voice in her ears.
As if he had heard her thoughts, she heard Ash's voice call out to her. He appeared in her view a moment later, running to her and diving to his knees beside her. "Misty, are you all right?" he asked, helping her to sit up. "I was just out for air and I saw you running...please...tell me what's wrong..."
Misty blinked away her tears, only to have them replaced by new ones. *They're wrong, they're all wrong. He loves me, I love him...it don't matter where we come from...as long as we have love...*
Ash was still watching her, concerned, when he heard footsteps beind him.
Misty gasped as she saw Brock and Gary coming towards them. "Ash, get out of here!" she begged. "They're going to..."
No sooner did she say that than Brock shoved him backwards. Ash went sprawling almost under the rail of the ship. It was becoming clear to Misty that Brock and Gary fully intended on throwing him off of the ship - literally - as they hauled him to his feet and slammed him against the metal rail.
"Stop it!" Misty pleaded. "Please, don't!"
Her words went unheard. She grabbed Brock's sleeve and almost ripped it off trying to get him to let go of Ash. "Stop it!" she cried.
Brock was resorting to trying to strangle Ash.
Misty couldn't think of anything else to do. She finally ran to the rail and began to climb over.
"Misty, what the hell are you doing?" Gary said.
Misty now stood on a tiny ledge, only one slip away from certain death. "Let him go, or I'm jumping!" she cried.
"Misty, he ain't worth dying for!"
"He is to me!" she cried. "I swear to God that I'm going to jump unless you let him go within the next five seconds!"
Brock was obviously torn between revenge on the man in his grasp or the life of his best friend's sister.
Misty let go with one hand, so only the other kept her from falling. "I'm serious, Brock, I'm letting go...and if Ash isn't able to grab me..." She began to loosen her grip.
Brock finally let go of Ash and shoved him towards the rail. "Get her," he growled.
Ash reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her back over. He held her tightly. "Why did you do that?" he cried.
"I'm not going to live without you!" Misty sobbed into his shirt. "I won't let anything take you away from me!"
"Do what you want," Brock muttered. "And see how bad it works out." He and Gary stormed away.
Misty raised her head and sought out his lips with hers, putting all of her fear and anger into the kiss. She felt him kiss back. The kiss deepened until both knew that it wasn't going to end there.
* * *
The sun shone through the windows, bathing the room in soft light. Ash opened his eyes slowly and smiled as he felt the soft weight of the girl in his arms. He looked down at her. She was still sound asleep, her hair strewn across her face. *She's so beautiful...he thought. There's no one on this planet who will ever convince me not to take her as my bride...*
Misty's eyes slowly flickered open. She looked confused for a moment until she realized where she was. She looked up at him.
"Good morning," Ash whispered.
Misty smiled. "Good morning," she whispered back.
"Sleep well?"
Misty shifted her body so she lay on the pillow beside him. "Very well," she said.
"I wonder why that could be?"
Misty laughed. "Because you exhausted me last night," she said.
"And you did the same to me," Ash said. He sat up slowly. "Today' s Sunday...any interest in going to mass today?'
Misty saw the look on his face. "No, not really," she said.
"Good," Ash said. He laid back down beside her. "Misty...did Tracey tell you...about my inheritance?"
"Yes...he said that you had to marry before you were twenty or you didn't get it."
"Yes..."
"It's a surprise you didn't just try to get the first woman you saw."
Ash shook his head. "Love means more to me than that."
Misty closed her eyes again. "I'm so tired," she said.
"I can order something to the room," Ash said. "If you don't want to get up."
Misty shook her head. "I'm okay," she said. "But I think people will get suspicious if I wear that dress again..." She had noticed that women in first-class changed clothes at least five times a day.
"Tell you what," Ash said. "Those dresses I said I bought my cousin? They're yours now. And when we get to New York, I'll get you some more things."
Misty suddenly opened her eyes again. "Assuming we see each other when we get there," she said.
Ash crawled out of bed. "Yes, I suppose I'm getting a little out of hand," he said. "I shouldn't even be thinking the things that I am."
"Things like what?" Misty asked, sitting up.
Ash sighed heavily. *Oh, well, the worst that can happen is she'll hate me and run away and I'll never see her again...not so bad...* "Misty...I'm very seriously considering taking you as my wife...after we get to know each other, of course...a three-day fling on the Titanic doesn't classify as true love, but..."
Misty watched him busy himself with dressing. She smiled. He was so nervous! "I think it does," she said, knowing that she couldn't live without this man.
Ash stopped halfway though pulling his shirt on to stare at her. "What?" he said.
Misty reached for the dressing gown on the bedpost and pulled it on before getting out of the bed. "Ash, I know for a fact that I love you, and nothing could change that...you saw what happened last night when Brock and Gary tried to take you away from me...I would do that again in a heartbeat if you were threatened in any way...And if I'm the woman you want as your wife...then I would be a fool to reject you."
Ash could only stare. He hadn't expected this reaction at all.
Misty wrapped her arms around his waist. "You're the most wonderful man I've ever known in my life," she said. "And I mean that."
Ash leaned down to kiss her. "And you're the most wonderful woman I've ever known," he said.
* * *
Misty stepped into what Ash had told her was the lounge, the womens' area. He had volunteered to stay with her all day to make sure that she was okay, but Misty had finally declared that if someone wanted to know who she was, she would tell them. "I don't feel sorry for myself," she had said. "And if they can't accept that I'm from third-class, then so be it."
Ash had smiled then at her bold determination. "Well, you're not third class to me, and that's what counts, right?"
"Right," Misty said, a grin manifesting on her face.
Now, she looked around the large room, seeing a few women scattered around. She took a seat by a window and looked out, sighing to herself. *Four days ago, I was nothing, just a little brat...and now I could very well be Ash's fiancée...I know he loves me...and I love him...there's not much that could stop me now...*
A young woman, a few years older than Misty, approached the table. "Excuse me for intruding," she said softly. "But I couldn't help but recognize you."
Misty looked up to find herself looking at a tall woman with black hair. "How so?" she asked.
The woman sat down. "I saw you dancing with Ash last night."
"You know him?" Misty said.
The woman raised her eyebrows. "Believe me, everyone knows him." She was silent for a moment. "My name is Edwina. I used to be maid to Ash's mother."
"Oh," Misty said.
"I understand that Ash is thinking of taking you as his wife," Edwina said.
Misty nodded slowly. "Yes, he is," she said.
"Such a lucky girl, you are," Edwina smiled. "If you could only imagine how many women wish to have him as their husband...it is not just that he is heir to such a fortune, but he is a respectable man. He has been that way since he was a little boy. He stands for his own rights...never follows the crowd. Which makes me believe that you are not who you seem to be."
"What do you mean?" Misty asked.
"Where do you come from?" Edwina said.
Misty couldn't tell if this woman meant well or not. "America," she finally said.
"Who are your parents?"
Misty turned away at the question. "They're not with me anymore," she said, her voice quivering.
Edwina looked taken aback. "Oh, my dear, I'm sorry," she said. "I did not mean to upset you...I guess I tend to look into people's business a little too much at times. Forgive me." She stood up and walked back to her own table.
Misty sighed and decided that some air was best for her.
* * *
Meanwhile, in the first-class smoking room, Ash and Tracey sat at a table separate from the rest. Tracey was aimlessly sketching in his book, and Ash was thinking of how well Misty would fare in a first-class world. "I don't know, Tracey," he suddenly said. "I don't know if Misty would be okay in this world...she's used to doing what she wants, when she wants...she's such a free spirit...I don't know if she would handle being told what to do all the time."
Tracey looked up. "Ash, don't tell me that you're going to just cast her away," he said. "Not after what happened between you two last night. She would be dead right now if you hadn't saved her, and not to mention what I assume happened after that!"
"What do you assume happened after that?" Ash said, wondering if Tracey had had his ear to the door the night before.
"It's not a gentleman's place to discuss such matters," Tracey said, sounding like an old, stuffy man.
"Yes, well..."
"What I am trying to say is that you would be a fool to miss this chance. She loves you! Can't you see that?"
"Of course I can!" Ash snapped. "But no matter what, she's still a third-class girl! I can do everything I can to make her first-class on the outside, but she's never going to fit in!"
Tracey reached out and pinned Ash's hands to the table. "Ash!" he cried. "Listen to me!"
"What?" Ash said, surprised at Tracey's outburst.
"Someday, it isn't going to matter who you marry or where you come from when you marry. That may not be the case right now, but you can make it the case in your life. So what if she doesn't fit in? She's wandering around the Titanic right now as a first-class girl because she loves you too much to go back down to third class! Love should never be classified, and you've proven that to her! If you were to tell her this to her face, she would be absolutely heartbroken! Do you want to see that?"
Ash conjured up an image of him telling Misty that he didn't think she'd fit into his life. She would be devastated. What had she said the night before as Brock had tried to kill him? "I'm not going to live without you"...She really would sacrifice herself for him. "You're right," he said. "It would be stupid to let her go after how far we've come..."
"Good," Tracey said. "I'm glad I got through to you."
Ash sighed. "I should go find her," he said.
* * *
Ash finally found her about to descend back into third-class. "Misty!" he called out.
Misty turned around. Her eyes lit up. "Hi, Ash," she said.
Ash walked up to her. "You're going back?" he asked.
Misty shook her head. "Just for a little while," she said. "I want to talk to the only one of my sisters that will be happy to know that I've found true love."
Ash smiled at that. "Well, you take care of yourself, then," he said. "Do you want me to come get you tonight?"
Misty shook her head. "As wonderful as last night was, I think I'd rather spend just one more night with Violet before I go off with you."
Ash nodded. "Then, how about tomorrow after lunch?"
Misty thought about it. "That would be good," she said. "I hear there's going to be a dog show up there tomorrow...that would be interesting to see.
Ash sighed. "So...goodnight, I guess," he said. He really didn't want to have to go to bed without her, but...
Misty stood on tiptoe and kissed him lightly. "Good night," she said. "I'll be dreaming of you."
"Same with me," Ash said as she carefully walked back down the stairs.
TO BE CONTINUED....
A/N: I wrote this because the Titanic was my passion before Pokémon. Seriously. Ask me a question about it and I can answer it! Anyway, you guessed it, the iceberg is next...whoops, I just remembered that I was supposed to write a happy fic...oooh...you guys are gonna hate me...how about the fic after this one be a happy one?
Disclaimer: Pokémon is the registered property of Nintendo, Game Freak, 4Kids Entertainment, and Satoshi Tajiri. The Titanic is the property of the Atlantic Ocean.
Summary: Set in 1912. Ash and Misty have never met, being on opposite ends of the social ladder. But when fate brings them together on the Titanic, will their newfound love be enough to overcome what lies ahead?
A/N: This has absolutely nothing to do with the show at all, I just used the characters. I tried to avoid making this sound like the 1997 movie Titanic, but if I did, I'll kick my own butt.
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Ash - 17
Misty - 19
Tracey - 21
Brock - 25
Gary - 17
Others: Who really cares? It's an Ash and Misty love story, they're the only ones that matter!
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"Wow..." breathed the young woman as she looked up at the massive ship. "Look at that...it's so big!"
"Misty, please!" her eldest sister, Daisy, shushed her.
Misty raised an eyebrow. "What?" she said.
"Do you realize where we are? We're about to board the R.M.S Titanic! You don't know how important it is for us to be on our best behavior!"
"We're going to be surrounded by some of the most important people in the world on that boat," her second-eldest sister, Lily, said.
Misty, always the logical one, folded her arms. "No, we're not," she said. "You know as well as me that they're just going to stick us in the bottom of the ship where we won't cause trouble for the rich brats."
"Misty!" her last sister, Violet, hissed. "Quit being such a little brat!"
"Little?" Misty echoed. "You seem to forget that I'm nineteen years old!"
"But you're still younger than us, and we say you're being a little brat!"
Misty sighed. There was no winning with her sisters, especially not after they had all been abandoned by their parents. All four had decided that it was time they move on anyway, and Daisy had managed to grab four tickets to the Titanic, although Misty really didn't care to know how she did it.
The four sisters heard a sound behind them and turned to see two of their male friends walking up behind them, overflowing bags slung over their shoulders. One was a tall man, with dark skin and eyes that were narrow enough to make people wonder if he actually had eyes, and the other was a younger boy with spiky brown hair and dark brown eyes that always carried a bit of an egotistical expression.
The older man stepped up to Daisy and took her hand. "You do not know how pleasurable it is for me to see you again," he said, winking at her.
Misty rolled her eyes. "Oh, please..." she muttered.
Daisy, although slightly flattered, pulled her hand away. "I've told you before, Brock, I'm not interested in you!" she said.
"He will be that way until the day he dies," the other boy said, turning to Misty. "Well, are you excited about this voyage?"
Misty nodded. "You bet I am, Gary," she said.
Brock looked up at the massive hull of the ship. "Wow," he said. "I can feel it...I just know that I'm going to meet my woman here..."
Misty couldn't help but smile. Brock had always been a bit of a playboy, and although he once did have a serious relationship with a girl, she had pretty much broken up with him because of their age difference. Now, he was just a bit of an idiot. He tried to get every girl he could. He had even tried his hand at seducing Misty, although that had been the biggest waste of his time that he had ever had.
"You?" Daisy said. "And a girl?"
Gary sighed. "He is going to be like that until the day he dies," he said. "Well, let's get on this ship and get out of here!"
Lily raised her eyebrows. "You're coming, too?" she asked.
Brock broke off his daydream. "Of course we are!" he said. "Gary and I managed to get a hold of two tickets."
"Managed to get a hold of?" Misty repeated. "You didn't kill anyone, did you?"
Gary made a face. "I'm appalled by your accusations!" he said in a fake accent. "Of course we didn't! We just...borrowed them from some drunk guy in an alley."
"Idiots," Violet muttered.
"Hey, when you're at the bottom of the food chain, you do what you can to survive!" Brock said. "Now, let's go before they leave us behind!" (In case you haven't guessed, Misty, her sisters, Brock and Gary are all in third class, the lowest you could go on the social ladder. Third class people were almost always strictly segregated from first and second class people.)
* * *
Meanwhile, at almost the other end of the ship, an expensive-looking car pulled up, after honking its way through the throngs of people. A dignified-looking young man, of no more than nineteen years, stepped out of the car and peered up at the ship from under the brim of his bowler hat. "She is marvelous," he said, half to himself, half to the man who climbed out of the car after him. "Definitely the most impressive ship I've ever seen."
"Ashton, the only other ship you have ever seen is the Lusitania," the man reminded his acquaintance.
Ashton looked back at his vacationing partner. It was strange that after five years of knowing the man, he had never learned his real name. An accomplished artist, he usually went by the nickname 'Tracey', (A/N: Well, you try looking for a man named Tracey on the Titanic! I had to make up some excuse!) but only around close friends. Other people just didn't know his name at all. "Yes, well, it's not like I get to travel that often," he said. "And I thought I told you to call me Ash."
Tracey smiled a bit. "You can never forget about that, can you?" he said.
Ash sighed. "Well, you try being told that the only way you can inherit your parents fortune is if you marry before you turn twenty. I only have three years left!"
"I don't think you're that concerned about it, though," Tracey reminded him.
"No, I don't think so, either," Ash replied. "If I don't meet someone who I truly want to marry before I'm twenty, than the fortune can go to charity. I don't care anymore. If I am to marry, I want it to be with someone special, who will share her life with me, not hide from me."
Tracey nodded as he followed Ash towards the ship. "Society these days just doesn't look upon love in the way it should...women seem to be nothing more than prizes to be claimed. It's a rare man indeed that looks for love before marriage. Most learn to love after they have married."
"I agree," Ash said, handing his ticket to the officer standing on deck. Tracey did the same. Both were greeted with a warm welcome. It was no surprise to either. "You know, it's amazing how you have been able to keep such a low profile. Does anyone know your real name at all?"
Tracey sighed. "My parents," he replied. "That's about it."
"So who are you on the passenger manifest this time?" (Titanic fact: Many passengers did sail under false names)
"Same as I always am," Tracey said.
"Somehow, I can't believe that people don't catch on that you're an artist when you list yourself as 'Tracey Sketchit' every voyage you sail on."
"People see the name, not the person," Tracey reasoned as they made their way to the top deck for the departure. "I have never once had someone come up to me and ask if I was that name."
Ash smiled. "Lucky you," he said. "Meanwhile, I'm going to have every person on this ship ask me if I plan on marrying and if I'll consider their daughter as my wife...it's crazy is what it is. If I'm going to meet someone, I'm going to meet them on my own, with no one else's help."
"You are a really stubborn young man, you know that, Ash?"
Ash smiled at Tracey. "You better believe I am," he replied. "How else am I here, on the grandest ship in the world?"
The duo had finally reached the top deck, where hundreds of people were gathered, waving to loved ones on the deck below, or just waving in order to say goodbye to the flat countryside of England. Ash had never cared for England that much, it had actually been France that had been his destination. But after vacationing in France for about a month, he had heard that his old friend Tracey was in England and the two had met in London. After about two weeks, they had learned of the Titanic's maiden voyage and had decided that now was as good a time as any to leave and return to America.
Ash looked at the paper in his hands, a sort of itinerary for the next few days on the Titanic. "Look at this, Tracey," he said. "I could have just stayed in France. The Titanic is making a stop at Cherbourg tonight."
Tracey looked over at him. "Well, I never knew that, so..." he said.
"Yeah, I get it," Ash said. He sighed as he looked over the harbour. "Well, here's saying goodbye to my last vacation as either a single man, or a wealthy man." He raised one arm to wave at the throngs of people.
"And here's saying goodbye to my inspiration," Tracey said, mimicking Ash's gesture.
"Come on, now, I'm sure you can find plenty of inspiration on this ship," Ash said, although it was getting hard to hear over the cries of 'I'll miss you!' and 'I love you' coming from the people gathered on deck.
"Yes, but...somehow, different countries always serve me better."
Ash smiled at his friend. Although his work was quite famous and some of it was even featured in world-famous galleries, Tracey had little confidence in his work as an artist. That was part of his success, Ash reasoned, because he was always trying to improve, and was always improving because of his low esteem in his work. Either that, or it was just dumb luck.
* * *
Misty set her bags down on the cold floor. The cabin before her was nothing to sneeze at, although she was sure that the upper classes had way better accommodations. She sighed. "Well, I have to say that it's an improvement over the last ship we were on," she said.
"Probably because the last ship we were on was fifteen years ago, when you were four. Of course they've improved ship design," Daisy said. She flopped down onto a bed, which was nothing more than metal with a cot in the middle. She was glad to be away from Brock, since he and Gary had long ago left to find their own cabins at the other end of the ship. (Titanic fact: Men and women in third class were berthed at separate ends of the ship, men at the bow, women at the stern, and families amidships)
Misty sighed at the reasonably noticeable crankiness of her eldest sister. She understood why, though. Daisy, Lily, and Violet had always been way too dependent on their parents. Misty, although incredibly close to her mother, was always a free spirit, doing whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted. It was no surprise to her that her father had taken her mother away. "Why be bothered with it unless you can change it?" was what she always said.
"Honestly, Misty, you seem to not even care that we've been abandoned!" Lily whined.
Misty climbed up to the top bunk that was nearest the single porthole in the room. "Lily, there comes a time when you've got to realize that Daisy's twenty-five years old, you're twenty-three, and Violet's twenty-one. There's a line between abandoned and time to move on to our own lives!" She sighed. "You know, they say that this is the most romantic ship in the world...the Ship of Dreams..."
Lily rolled her eyes. Misty and Violet were what their mother had called the 'romantics'. The two of them were always looking at things with a romantic spin on them, but Misty was never one to be made fun of. She was definitely the most complicated of the four, loving her sisters to death one minute, and screaming at them the next.
Violet leaned her chin on the bunk where Misty now sat. "Really?" she said. "Are you hoping to find the man of your dreams here?"
Misty looked at her sister and smiled. "Hardly likely, huh?"
Violet hopped up onto the bunk. "Aw, what kind of an attitude is that, sis? Just imagine, sparks fly on ships, especially ones that are on their maiden voyages! Just think about it, girl, you could find your soulmate on this ship!"
"And she can finally leave us alone," Daisy muttered.
Violet picked up the pillow off of the bunk and threw it at Daisy. "Why can't you just be happy that we're on our way to America, to a fresh start?"
"Because we happen to be without our parents, the people that we're supposed to be with!"
"Misty's right about one thing," Violet said. "It is time for us to move on. I mean, think about those first-class girls up there, most of them are probably seventeen years old and married to thirty-year-old men!"
"A little too old for me," Misty said, a smirk on her face.
"Same here," Violet agreed. "Oh, well."
Misty hopped down. "I'm going to head off," she said. "I want to do some exploring." She wandered down to the lounge, where she met up with Brock and Gary. "Hey, Misty!" Brock called - he'd obviously already had a few drinks.
Misty walked over. "So you found the bar, did you?" she said.
Gary was standing a few feet away. "Yeah," he said. "And he's already been slapped in the face by about half of the third-class passengers. I suppose it may be a good thing that they keep us in separate areas than the higher classes. That way, he can't make a fool out of all of us up there."
Misty looked up towards the ceiling. "I wonder what it's like up there?" she wondered, only half intending for it to come out loud.
"Caviar...cigars...wine..." Brock said. "They've probably got everything they need up there, while we're forced to drink cheap booze and eat semi-edible crap..."
"I sense hostility," Misty said with a smile.
"You sense a heckuva lot more than just hostility," Brock said.
Misty shook her head and left to explore a bit more. She found her way out to the stern deck, or, as it was so fondly called, the poop deck. She enjoyed the rush of wind through her long orangey hair as she leaned up against the rail. It was getting dark. The ship would be docking at Cherbourg soon, and then it was on to Queenstown, Ireland, and then, nothing but ocean until they reached New York.
She turned around so she could look up at the higher decks. "Awfully quiet for this time," she remarked, before reminding herself that the first-class people were probably at dinner. Their dinners usually lasted for hours, sometimes with dessert being served at ten at night. But a lone figure caught her attention. It was a young man with jet black hair standing on one of the first-class decks. She squinted to get a better look at him. He looked like he was upset or something, Misty couldn't tell. Finally, he walked away and she was left to nothing but the memory.
* * *
Ash sighed as he and Tracey walked through the dining salon. It wasn't a sigh of dissatisfaction - the dining salon was enough to take his breath away - but boredom. He just didn't feel like eating another fancy meal with more fancy people. He thought for a moment about just saying he was sick and leaving, but that wouldn't do his family's name too well, to just hide out for the rest of the voyage. After all, Tracey was usually right when he predicted things, and he was predicting that Ash would fall head-over-heels in love by the time they reached New York.
The two of them took a seat at their table, which was inhabited by six other people, four men and two women. Ash introduced himself while Tracey kept silent and just sat down.
One of the men nodded in recognition of Ash's name. "Ah, yes," he said. "I met your father once. Charming man, he was. I hear you are in the search for a bride, young man. I know of several young ladies who are dying to meet you."
Ash gave a weak smile. "Thank you, but it's not on the top of my priority list right now," he said.
"You mean you don't even wish to meet anyone?"
Ash sighed. "I suppose I could always stand to meet someone new," he said, although he found it difficult to imagine that he could ever feel emotionally attached to a first-class woman. He knew that it was unfair to judge women based on their social status, but it was his experience that told him that most women just wanted to marry and get to work on the family, they didn't care to get to know the man at all before marrying them.
"Well, for starters, let me introduce my lovely daughter, Margaret."
A lovely young woman with flowing blond hair and piercing blue eyes stood up. "Delighted to meet you," she said in a soft voice which could have easily been mistaken for music.
"And my niece, Christine."
A dark-haired woman stood up. Ash immediately took her name off of his list. He had never been one to judge by looks, but the woman was way too beauty-impaired for even his liking.
Tracey, obviously amused by the whole thing, smiled smugly at Ash as he sat back down. "Well, there you go," he said.
Ash rolled his eyes, making sure to shut his eyelids first so no one saw. He stood up yet again. "I'm sorry, but will you excuse me?" he said. "I suppose I'm just not that hungry tonight. I'll eat in my room later."
Tracey found him outside, wandering the promenade deck aimlessly. "Ash, what's bugging you?"
Ash sighed. "Do you think it's impossible to find a woman who is both smart and beautiful?"
Tracey looked at his friend. "All right, Ash, I have to ask you this...are you actually lovesick?"
Ash made a face. "How can I be lovesick when I haven't met anyone?"
"You know what I mean, Ash," Tracey said. "Do you want to meet someone?"
Ash sighed. "If you want to know the truth, you have to promise not to judge me by it."
"Promise," Tracey said.
"I saw this girl last night...I was just out for some air...and there she was...but...she was down in third class...her clothes were just in tatters...but she was so beautiful...she had hair the shade of a fire..."
Tracey raised his eyebrows. "That's it," he said. "You've got it, and you got it bad."
"What?" Ash said.
"I think it's best that you not come out here anymore, because I know you're going to try and meet her, and that would be the end of your family's name."
"Yes, I know...a first-class man with a third-class woman..."
"But on the other hand, I'm an artist. What do I know?" Tracey said. He winked and walked away.
Ash thought about that. Tracey was telling him to go meet her, he knew that he was. But...how to do that without upsetting everyone on the social ladder?
* * *
Misty stepped out into the fresh night air once again. Nothing but ocean remained in front of them. Nothing but ocean. She took a deep breath, smelling the sweet scent of salty air. She sighed heavily. "What is it about this ship that is depressing me this way?" she wondered aloud. "Here I am, on the Titanic, and I just want to hide in my room and never come out...I hate this. I hate everything about this...why can't my life be simple?" She turned and looked up towards the first-class area. Surprisingly, she saw someone standing there. The same man that she'd seen before. "He probably just wants to laugh at me, being down here while he's up there," she reasoned to herself. "Why else would he be there?"
To her ultimate surprise, the man turned to talk to a steward and then began to descend a small staircase to the deck where she stood. Her mind raced to figure out a reason why he could be walking towards her like that. Her heart was almost pounding out of her chest. She had never had too many encounters with the rich folk, and this abrupt one was scaring her.
Finally, he stood before her. She noticed that his eyes were a deep chestnut brown and he could probably be classified as the best-looking man she'd seen in her life. She had no clue what to say at all.
He spoke for her. "Hello," he said. "I know this sounds...strange coming from me...but, could I ask you what your name is?"
He was speaking quickly, and Misty thought that she heard his voice wavering. Was he actually nervous about talking to her? Most wealthy people talked slowly to her, as if they expected her to be some kind of retarded person. "My name is Misty," she replied. "And you are?" She wanted to throw out a challenge, to show that she wasn't just any timid third-class person.
"Ashton," he said.
*Geez, even his name sounds rich,* she thought to herself.
"But I really actually prefer to be called Ash," he continued. "It's just that...well, people are so accustomed to calling me by my full name..."
Misty didn't know what to think, so she decided to get on with it. "Well, then, maybe you could tell me why you're here?" she said.
Ash took a deep breath. "Well, the reason would be that...I...couldn't help but notice you out here the last couple of days...and you...I don't know why I was compelled to meet you, but...I was..." He sighed. "You probably think I'm making a fool out of myself right now..."
"Well, yes, you are," Misty said. "But this is interesting."
"I wanted to ask you if you would mind...accompanying me to dinner tomorrow night," Ash said, glad to have gotten it out.
Misty watched him carefully, looking for a sign that he was joking or making fun of her, but there was none. "What?" she said.
"I know you must think that I'm just pulling your leg, but...there's something about you that...interests me..."
Misty looked down at herself. "And you want to take me to dinner up there when I look like this?" she said.
Ash shook his head. "While I was in France I bought some dresses for my cousin...you look to be about her size...please, I just really need to have company."
"Why?"
Ash motioned back to the first-class deck. "You think it's the good life up there, don't you?" he said.
Misty nodded. "Why wouldn't it be? You've got everything up there."
"Everything but the one thing I need," he said. "So...would you join me tomorrow?"
Misty bit her lip, wondering if she was just going to be made fun of the whole time. Finally, she decided that life was for living, not wondering. "Sure, I'll come," she said.
Ash smiled at her, and she realized just how handsome he was. "That's wonderful," he said. "Meet me here tomorrow around five o'clock, okay?"
Misty nodded.
Ash seemed a little reluctant to leave, but he finally turned around and walked back up to his deck.
Misty stood there, staring, for the longest time before she decided to go back to the lounge. The air was biting cold now.
Brock, Gary, and Daisy were there. All three looked at her with icy glares. "Could you explain what that was about?" Brock growled in a tone she had never heard before.
"What was what about?" Misty asked.
"You were talking to that first-class guy," Daisy said. "What did he say to you?"
Misty looked at her sister as if she had just told her that she was an alien. "Nothing," she said.
"Well, you seemed to be talking for a long time, so he must have said something!"
Misty let her mind recall the image of his smiling face. He had been so handsome... "He invited me to dinner with him tomorrow night," she said.
"He WHAT?!" Brock almost exploded. "And you said yes?!"
"Yeah, I did!" Misty said. She hated losing arguments, especially with Brock. "Why is that suddenly a problem?!"
"Misty, he's just going to try and..." Daisy began to speak.
Misty spun around. "Daisy, I'm not an idiot! Don't you think I thought about what he might try to do? I can read people, and he doesn't seem that way!"
"Because those people are trained liars!" Brock said.
Misty matched Brock's tone of voice. "So what?" she said. "It's my life you know!"
"You are not going!" Daisy said.
Misty waved a finger. "I'm nineteen years old," she said. "I can do whatever I want!"
"I'm not letting you go!"
"Hell with you, I'm going!" Misty said. "I think this man actually might like me, and I'm not blind enough to throw away my chance!" She shoved past them all and ran to her cabin.
* * *
Tracey stared at the young man incredulously. "You actually met her?" he said. "You mean you went down there and introduced yourself?"
Ash looked up from the bags he was searching through. "Yes, I did," he said.
Tracey's face broke into a grin. "You always did things your own way," he said. "I'm glad you didn't take my advice." He winked at Ash.
Ash shook his head.
"So what are you doing?" Tracey asked.
"I'm looking for that blue dress I bought for my cousin," Ash said.
"Why?"
"Because I invited that girl for dinner."
"Whoa, she's coming up here?!" Tracey almost squeaked.
"Is there a problem with that?" Ash said.
"No, not at all, I just never expected it. So...what does she look like? What's her name?"
Ash sighed as he thought of the young woman once again. "Her name was Misty," he said dreamily.
Tracey raised one eyebrow and immediately burst into laughter. "Oh, man, Ash, you have it bad!" he said.
"Since when do you call me Ash?" he said, eager to change the subject.
"You were always bothering me about it in England, so I decided to call you that. Now, what does she look like?"
Ash shook his head. "I can't do her justice by describing her...you have to see her yourself to appreciate her real beauty."
"Okaaaaayyy..." Tracey said slowly, obviously concerned about his friend. "You're in love, aren't you?" he asked.
"Love?" Ash repeated. "No. Lust, maybe, but not love. Not until I know get to know her."
"Of course," Tracey said. "So, shouldn't you be looking for that dress?"
"Yes, I should," Ash replied, resuming the task.
* *
Misty waited by the staircase, nervously wringing her hands. Her outburst the night before had somewhat shocked the rest of the group, and they had decided that if something bad were to happen to Misty, she would learn the lesson on her own. Brock and Daisy had been arguing about it before she had left, but nothing was going to stop her from seeing Ash again.
Finally, she saw him descending the stairs. But this time, he had another man with him. The two looked like good friends.
Ash smiled as he walked up to her. "How are you this fine evening?" he asked.
Misty couldn't help but blush. "I'm cold," she said.
Ash nodded. "It is getting quite cold out here," he said.
Misty looked past him to his friend. "And who might you be?" she asked.
"Oh...uh..." Tracey stumbled for an answer.
"He doesn't like people calling him by his real name...he's an artist, you understand, and he likes to keep to himself. Just call him Tracey."
Misty smiled, catching the pun in the name. "Ah," she said. "I gotcha. Hello, Tracey."
Tracey nodded to her. "Hello," he said.
Ash held out his arm for her. "So, how about you follow me?" he said. "I'll get you dressed up."
"Hey, wait!" Tracey said, taking the dress from him."Let me get her dressed. You want to be surprised, don't you, Ash? After all, she is your...um...date tonight."
Ash looked at Misty. "Is that okay with you?" he asked.
Misty nodded and walked off with Tracey. They walked to his stateroom. "Please, don't be shy," he said. "I promise, nothing in here bites."
Misty smiled and stepped in.
Tracey unfolded the dress, a long, ice blue dress with white lace running down the front and back. "Do you like it?" he asked. "Ash picked it out. He thought it would go well with your eyes."
Misty reached out to touch the fabric. "Wow," she breathed. "It is beautiful..."
Tracey smiled. "Ash always knows how to impress the ladies, he just doesn't try," he said.
"What?" Misty said.
Tracey gave himself a mental kick. "Oh, dammit," he muttered. "Well, Ash is going to hate me for telling you this...but...he comes from a very wealthy family...and he's the heir to a twenty-five million dollar fortune, but he can only get it if he marries before he's twenty..."
Misty felt her heart sink. "So he's only..."
Tracey frantically waved his hands. "No, not at all!" he said. "I think he really likes you, Misty! He hasn't ever made an attempt to see a woman until he saw you!"
Misty smiled at him. "Well, you're doing a fine job of covering for him," she said.
"It's my job," Tracey replied. "He has a tendency to get himself into trouble."
Misty nodded and stepped into the washroom to change into the dress. All of her senses were being overwhelmed by the beauty of everything she had seen in first class so far. And as she looked at herself in the mirror, the soft fabric falling around her, she truly realized for the first time what Ash must have seen in her. "Wow," she said to her reflection. "I really am beautiful..."
Tracey's eyes widened when she stepped back out. "Wow, you look great!" he said. "Ash is going to be blown away!"
Misty smiled. "So, what did you say you did?" she asked as he began to work on her hair.
Tracey spoke around the hairpins in his mouth. "I'm an artist," he said.
"Really?" Misty said. "I've never heard of you."
"Tracey's not my real name," Tracey said. "And I only sign my name on my paintings, that's all. No one really knows who I am, just my work."
"What do you specialize in?" Misty asked.
Tracey shrugged. "Whatever gives me inspiration, I guess. If I see something that gives me that feeling, I paint it."
"I want to be a writer," Misty said. "But...I'm too poor to even buy the supplies..."
"A writer, hmmm?" Tracey said. "Tell you what. I can get you a job at the newspaper in town if you don't have anything else to do."
Misty smiled. "Thank you," she said. "But I'm not sure if I would be any good...I like writing stories, not facts."
"Of course," Tracey said. He stuck the last pin into Misty's hair. "There you are," he said.
Misty stood up and walked to a mirror. She had to do a double-take, she was so surprised.
"Didn't think you could look like that, did you?" Tracey said.
"No," Misty said.
"You're a beautiful young woman," Tracey said. "And I know that Ash is going to be blown away when he sees you."
* * *
Ash stood at the bottom of the Grand Staircase, awaiting the arrival of Misty and Tracey. He felt his heart pounding. Why was it that he was so nervous? He couldn't be in love with her already, could he?
His heart answered him with a resounding 'yes!'. The very second that he had heard the soft sound of her voice, he had known that he had been waiting his whole life for her. There was no question about it. He felt his eyes burn for a second. He had never felt like this in his life. It had to be love, there was nothing else it could be!
His breath caught in his throat as he saw her, walking arm-in-arm down the stairs with Tracey. She looked absolutely gorgeous in the dress he had chosen for her. He stepped up to the bottom of the stairs as they reached the bottom. "Wow," he said. "Misty...you...look...wow..."
Misty couldn't help but smile. "And you look great, too," she said. She was overwhelmed by the sight of sunlight streaming through the huge dome above them, glancing off the oak paneling and dancing in Ash's eyes...
Tracey gave Ash a crooked smile. "Well, you two, I'm off to mingle. Have fun."
Ash looked lost the second Tracey walked away. He had never actually been left alone with a woman, much less a woman that he was in love with.
Misty flashed him an amused grin. "Well, you're sure the talkative one," she said, lacing her arm through his. "Aren't you going to take me to dinner to meet all your friends?"
Ash raised an eyebrow. "Friends?" he repeated. "Misty, if I could, I would be in third class with you. You'll see how stuffy it gets. I'd rather be at one of your parties than up here, talking about politics and things."
"How old are you, Ash?" Misty asked. "I never asked before."
"I'm seventeen," Ash replied. "What about you?"
"Nineteen," Misty replied. "Although you would never know it if you met my sisters."
"Why?" Ash asked. He knew that it wasn't 'proper' to delve into a girl's personal life, but he felt like he could take some chances with this one.
"They're always treating me like I'm five. They're all in their twenties and they're still upset over our parents ditching us."
"What?"
Misty looked at him. "I suppose I'm boring you, going on with my life story."
Ash shook his head. "No, you're not," he said. "I'm interested. I want to get to know everything about you."
Misty saw no sign that he was lying in his eyes, so she smiled. "Do you? Me, a measly third-class girl?" She wanted to play him until she found out the real plan behind all of this.
Ash fell serious. "Yes, you," he said. "I know it's hard for you to trust someone like me...trained liars, some people call the upper class."
"Yes," Misty said softly, remembering what Brock had said.
"Truth is, being up here...it can suffocate you. That's why I wanted to meet you so badly, because you seem like a girl who can show me something else to life besides caviar and wine and expensive stuff. A man on this ship bought a quilt for his wife that cost eight hundred dollars in Queenstown...I see no reason for it."
Misty could see tears in his eyes as they descended the Grand Staircase towards the dining area. *He really does hate it up here...* she thought. *I suppose I could take him down to the party tonight...but I have to make sure that Brock don't find out.* Before she could stop herself, the words were coming from her lips. "Would you like to come down to our party tonight?" she asked. "They're a lot of fun and they go on into the late hours like you would never believe..."
Ash looked at her and smiled. There was something about her, everything she said made him smile. He was actually starting to believe in soulmates as he walked along with her. "I would love to, Misty," he said.
Misty felt her face go hot. What was going on? She was actually blushing, and the feel of his arm linked with hers felt so right, like it was where she was meant to be. They say this is the most romantic ship in the world...her words from the day they had departed rang in her head. The most romantic ship in the world, and she was falling in love. It seemed too good to be true. "Good," she said. "I'm getting rather sick of dancing with my sister's friends, it would be nice to have someone of my own to dance with."
Ash raised his eyebrows. Could that mean that she was falling for him? Nah, she was just probably lonely. "Well, here we are," he said. "Just pretend you're rich and they'll love you. No one up here knows who you are, so...unless Tracey gets drunk and blows your cover later tonight in the smoking room..."
Misty couldn't help but laugh.
"I know, he can get a little wacky at times, but he's mostly calm."
Misty looked around as they walked through the doors to the dining saloon. The room was carpeted in blue, except for a small area, which she assumed people used for dancing. The tables and chairs were all white, and chandeliers hung from the ceiling. She felt like the Queen as Ash led her to a table.
Tracey was already there, discussing something with the man who had tried to fix Ash up. Closer inspection revealed that Tracey was showing him a fairly recent sketch that he had done of the Grand Staircase.
"I see you've gotten over your fear of letting people see your work," Ash said.
Tracey looked up. "Yes, well..." He cleared his throat.
The man nodded towards Misty. "And who is your acquaintance?"
Ash beamed proudly. "This is Misty," he said. "I just met her the other day, and she agreed to come to dinner with me."
"Ah," the man said. "I suppose I've never introduced myself. My name is Archibald, but you may call me Archie." He took Misty's hand in his own and kissed the back of it, a tradition.
"Lovely to meet you," Misty said.
Ash looked at her with a bit of a smile. She was fitting in just fine, and had already fooled half the people there into thinking that she was another wealthy young woman on her way home to America.
They sat and ordered dinner, and Misty could see why Ash hated being up here so much. The conversation was dull and having to sit with her back straight was really beginning to annoy her.
The band began to play a slow song, one that Misty didn't recognize, and she saw couples get up to dance.
"Misty, would you...care to dance?" Ash asked her.
Misty spun to look at him with a hint of surprise. Then, she smiled. "I would love to," she said.
Ash led her to the dance floor and pulled her close, wrapping an arm around her waist. His heart was screaming at him by now, the closeness of her body driving him crazy.
Misty placed one hand in his and the other on his shoulder. She let him lead, since she had no idea what she was doing. But one thing was for sure - she was falling for him. There was no doubt left in her mind. She didn't even care that they were on opposite sides of the social ladder. Her eyes began to well up as she watched him. He was a natural at dancing, it was no wonder why he was so sought after by women. Handsome, smart, and a wonderful dancer. *What did I do to deserve this? * she asked herself.
The song ended way too soon and the two of them returned to their seats. Tracey nudged Ash and gave him a look that said Man, you've got it worse than I thought! He quickly hid the sketch that he'd been working on of the two of them dancing.
After dinner had ended, Ash and Misty headed out to a staircase that led back to third class. Misty's hands started to shake. What if Daisy and them found her dancing with this first-class man?
"If you don't want me to come down, I won't," Ash said.
Misty shook her head. "I want you to come, but I don't want anyone to find you! They'll hate you and they'll make you hate me, and..."
Ash pulled her close, their dance removing all fear of closeness from his heart. "Misty, no one could make me hate you, nothing will. I promise you that."
Misty blinked back tears from her eyes. "I don't want to go down there, that's the problem," she said. "Because if I do, they'll never let me up here and I'll never see you again..."
Ash felt his heart sink as he saw a few tears trickle down her cheeks. His mind was screaming two things at once to him - one, that he would never really be able to be with her, and two, that he should forget about that stuff and kiss her.
Misty looked up at him. "Ash...will I see you again?" she asked.
Ash nodded. "Of course you will," he said.
Misty didn't believe him, he could see that.
Finally, the half of his mind that wanted to kiss her took over and he leaned forward, capturing her lips with his own.
Misty felt a jolt of emotion rush through her body. She was startled, to say the least, but she found it in her to kiss him back. Her hands found their way up his body to become entangled in his hair.
Ash's heart was pounding. Misty was the first woman he had ever even wanted to kiss, and now the dream was playing out into reality. He placed a hand on the back of her neck and one around her waist to bring her closer to him.
Finally, the two had to break off to breathe. Both were more than a little unnerved by what they had just did, but had no regrets. Ash smiled at her. "How about I give you some time to think things over and I'll come get you tomorrow?" he whispered.
Misty nodded. "Okay," she whispered back. But before she descended the staircase, she looked back to say one last thing - "Ash, I love you."
Ash's face broke into a huge grin. "I love you, too," he said.
It was Misty's turn to grin. "Really?"
"Would I have kissed you if I didn't?" he said.
Misty shook her head. "Well, goodnight," she said.
Ash watched as she disappeared from sight. *What is everyone going to think, me, dating a third-class woman? An older third-class woman at that...* After a moment of mental debating, he decided that he really didn't care. He just had to see her again...
* * *
Daisy, Lily, Gary, and Brock were all waiting at the stateroom when she got back. "Well, fancy digs, there, Misty," Brock said, every word dripping with disdain.
Misty looked down at her dress. She had never asked Ash if he wanted it back.
"I suppose you had fun up there?" Daisy said.
"Yes, I did have a good time," Misty said.
"Misty, you just don't get it, do you?" Lily said. "There's no way that you could ever be with this man!"
"Why not?" Misty said, determined not to yell.
"Because it will never be a real love! Whether you admit it or not, you're just after his money! You just want to be rich, that's all!"
Misty turned to Brock, fire in her eyes. "Who are you to be lecturing me about love?!" she cried. "Since when was it your duty to approve of my love life?!"
"Misty..."
"No!" Misty yelled, her voice echoing off of the steel pipes in the room. "I won't let you mess this thing up for me! I love him and that's all there is to it!"
Daisy stormed up to her and slapped her across the face. "Misty, wake up!" she cried. "This man is not the one for you!"
Misty held her cheek, where she was sure Daisy's handprint was showing up. Her eyes began to well up with tears. She had been so happy a few minutes ago, and now...she turned from the room and ran. She ran up to the poop deck and almost to the end of the ship, where she finally collapsed into a sobbing heap. She wanted to be with Ash, she needed to hear his voice in her ears.
As if he had heard her thoughts, she heard Ash's voice call out to her. He appeared in her view a moment later, running to her and diving to his knees beside her. "Misty, are you all right?" he asked, helping her to sit up. "I was just out for air and I saw you running...please...tell me what's wrong..."
Misty blinked away her tears, only to have them replaced by new ones. *They're wrong, they're all wrong. He loves me, I love him...it don't matter where we come from...as long as we have love...*
Ash was still watching her, concerned, when he heard footsteps beind him.
Misty gasped as she saw Brock and Gary coming towards them. "Ash, get out of here!" she begged. "They're going to..."
No sooner did she say that than Brock shoved him backwards. Ash went sprawling almost under the rail of the ship. It was becoming clear to Misty that Brock and Gary fully intended on throwing him off of the ship - literally - as they hauled him to his feet and slammed him against the metal rail.
"Stop it!" Misty pleaded. "Please, don't!"
Her words went unheard. She grabbed Brock's sleeve and almost ripped it off trying to get him to let go of Ash. "Stop it!" she cried.
Brock was resorting to trying to strangle Ash.
Misty couldn't think of anything else to do. She finally ran to the rail and began to climb over.
"Misty, what the hell are you doing?" Gary said.
Misty now stood on a tiny ledge, only one slip away from certain death. "Let him go, or I'm jumping!" she cried.
"Misty, he ain't worth dying for!"
"He is to me!" she cried. "I swear to God that I'm going to jump unless you let him go within the next five seconds!"
Brock was obviously torn between revenge on the man in his grasp or the life of his best friend's sister.
Misty let go with one hand, so only the other kept her from falling. "I'm serious, Brock, I'm letting go...and if Ash isn't able to grab me..." She began to loosen her grip.
Brock finally let go of Ash and shoved him towards the rail. "Get her," he growled.
Ash reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her back over. He held her tightly. "Why did you do that?" he cried.
"I'm not going to live without you!" Misty sobbed into his shirt. "I won't let anything take you away from me!"
"Do what you want," Brock muttered. "And see how bad it works out." He and Gary stormed away.
Misty raised her head and sought out his lips with hers, putting all of her fear and anger into the kiss. She felt him kiss back. The kiss deepened until both knew that it wasn't going to end there.
* * *
The sun shone through the windows, bathing the room in soft light. Ash opened his eyes slowly and smiled as he felt the soft weight of the girl in his arms. He looked down at her. She was still sound asleep, her hair strewn across her face. *She's so beautiful...he thought. There's no one on this planet who will ever convince me not to take her as my bride...*
Misty's eyes slowly flickered open. She looked confused for a moment until she realized where she was. She looked up at him.
"Good morning," Ash whispered.
Misty smiled. "Good morning," she whispered back.
"Sleep well?"
Misty shifted her body so she lay on the pillow beside him. "Very well," she said.
"I wonder why that could be?"
Misty laughed. "Because you exhausted me last night," she said.
"And you did the same to me," Ash said. He sat up slowly. "Today' s Sunday...any interest in going to mass today?'
Misty saw the look on his face. "No, not really," she said.
"Good," Ash said. He laid back down beside her. "Misty...did Tracey tell you...about my inheritance?"
"Yes...he said that you had to marry before you were twenty or you didn't get it."
"Yes..."
"It's a surprise you didn't just try to get the first woman you saw."
Ash shook his head. "Love means more to me than that."
Misty closed her eyes again. "I'm so tired," she said.
"I can order something to the room," Ash said. "If you don't want to get up."
Misty shook her head. "I'm okay," she said. "But I think people will get suspicious if I wear that dress again..." She had noticed that women in first-class changed clothes at least five times a day.
"Tell you what," Ash said. "Those dresses I said I bought my cousin? They're yours now. And when we get to New York, I'll get you some more things."
Misty suddenly opened her eyes again. "Assuming we see each other when we get there," she said.
Ash crawled out of bed. "Yes, I suppose I'm getting a little out of hand," he said. "I shouldn't even be thinking the things that I am."
"Things like what?" Misty asked, sitting up.
Ash sighed heavily. *Oh, well, the worst that can happen is she'll hate me and run away and I'll never see her again...not so bad...* "Misty...I'm very seriously considering taking you as my wife...after we get to know each other, of course...a three-day fling on the Titanic doesn't classify as true love, but..."
Misty watched him busy himself with dressing. She smiled. He was so nervous! "I think it does," she said, knowing that she couldn't live without this man.
Ash stopped halfway though pulling his shirt on to stare at her. "What?" he said.
Misty reached for the dressing gown on the bedpost and pulled it on before getting out of the bed. "Ash, I know for a fact that I love you, and nothing could change that...you saw what happened last night when Brock and Gary tried to take you away from me...I would do that again in a heartbeat if you were threatened in any way...And if I'm the woman you want as your wife...then I would be a fool to reject you."
Ash could only stare. He hadn't expected this reaction at all.
Misty wrapped her arms around his waist. "You're the most wonderful man I've ever known in my life," she said. "And I mean that."
Ash leaned down to kiss her. "And you're the most wonderful woman I've ever known," he said.
* * *
Misty stepped into what Ash had told her was the lounge, the womens' area. He had volunteered to stay with her all day to make sure that she was okay, but Misty had finally declared that if someone wanted to know who she was, she would tell them. "I don't feel sorry for myself," she had said. "And if they can't accept that I'm from third-class, then so be it."
Ash had smiled then at her bold determination. "Well, you're not third class to me, and that's what counts, right?"
"Right," Misty said, a grin manifesting on her face.
Now, she looked around the large room, seeing a few women scattered around. She took a seat by a window and looked out, sighing to herself. *Four days ago, I was nothing, just a little brat...and now I could very well be Ash's fiancée...I know he loves me...and I love him...there's not much that could stop me now...*
A young woman, a few years older than Misty, approached the table. "Excuse me for intruding," she said softly. "But I couldn't help but recognize you."
Misty looked up to find herself looking at a tall woman with black hair. "How so?" she asked.
The woman sat down. "I saw you dancing with Ash last night."
"You know him?" Misty said.
The woman raised her eyebrows. "Believe me, everyone knows him." She was silent for a moment. "My name is Edwina. I used to be maid to Ash's mother."
"Oh," Misty said.
"I understand that Ash is thinking of taking you as his wife," Edwina said.
Misty nodded slowly. "Yes, he is," she said.
"Such a lucky girl, you are," Edwina smiled. "If you could only imagine how many women wish to have him as their husband...it is not just that he is heir to such a fortune, but he is a respectable man. He has been that way since he was a little boy. He stands for his own rights...never follows the crowd. Which makes me believe that you are not who you seem to be."
"What do you mean?" Misty asked.
"Where do you come from?" Edwina said.
Misty couldn't tell if this woman meant well or not. "America," she finally said.
"Who are your parents?"
Misty turned away at the question. "They're not with me anymore," she said, her voice quivering.
Edwina looked taken aback. "Oh, my dear, I'm sorry," she said. "I did not mean to upset you...I guess I tend to look into people's business a little too much at times. Forgive me." She stood up and walked back to her own table.
Misty sighed and decided that some air was best for her.
* * *
Meanwhile, in the first-class smoking room, Ash and Tracey sat at a table separate from the rest. Tracey was aimlessly sketching in his book, and Ash was thinking of how well Misty would fare in a first-class world. "I don't know, Tracey," he suddenly said. "I don't know if Misty would be okay in this world...she's used to doing what she wants, when she wants...she's such a free spirit...I don't know if she would handle being told what to do all the time."
Tracey looked up. "Ash, don't tell me that you're going to just cast her away," he said. "Not after what happened between you two last night. She would be dead right now if you hadn't saved her, and not to mention what I assume happened after that!"
"What do you assume happened after that?" Ash said, wondering if Tracey had had his ear to the door the night before.
"It's not a gentleman's place to discuss such matters," Tracey said, sounding like an old, stuffy man.
"Yes, well..."
"What I am trying to say is that you would be a fool to miss this chance. She loves you! Can't you see that?"
"Of course I can!" Ash snapped. "But no matter what, she's still a third-class girl! I can do everything I can to make her first-class on the outside, but she's never going to fit in!"
Tracey reached out and pinned Ash's hands to the table. "Ash!" he cried. "Listen to me!"
"What?" Ash said, surprised at Tracey's outburst.
"Someday, it isn't going to matter who you marry or where you come from when you marry. That may not be the case right now, but you can make it the case in your life. So what if she doesn't fit in? She's wandering around the Titanic right now as a first-class girl because she loves you too much to go back down to third class! Love should never be classified, and you've proven that to her! If you were to tell her this to her face, she would be absolutely heartbroken! Do you want to see that?"
Ash conjured up an image of him telling Misty that he didn't think she'd fit into his life. She would be devastated. What had she said the night before as Brock had tried to kill him? "I'm not going to live without you"...She really would sacrifice herself for him. "You're right," he said. "It would be stupid to let her go after how far we've come..."
"Good," Tracey said. "I'm glad I got through to you."
Ash sighed. "I should go find her," he said.
* * *
Ash finally found her about to descend back into third-class. "Misty!" he called out.
Misty turned around. Her eyes lit up. "Hi, Ash," she said.
Ash walked up to her. "You're going back?" he asked.
Misty shook her head. "Just for a little while," she said. "I want to talk to the only one of my sisters that will be happy to know that I've found true love."
Ash smiled at that. "Well, you take care of yourself, then," he said. "Do you want me to come get you tonight?"
Misty shook her head. "As wonderful as last night was, I think I'd rather spend just one more night with Violet before I go off with you."
Ash nodded. "Then, how about tomorrow after lunch?"
Misty thought about it. "That would be good," she said. "I hear there's going to be a dog show up there tomorrow...that would be interesting to see.
Ash sighed. "So...goodnight, I guess," he said. He really didn't want to have to go to bed without her, but...
Misty stood on tiptoe and kissed him lightly. "Good night," she said. "I'll be dreaming of you."
"Same with me," Ash said as she carefully walked back down the stairs.
TO BE CONTINUED....
A/N: I wrote this because the Titanic was my passion before Pokémon. Seriously. Ask me a question about it and I can answer it! Anyway, you guessed it, the iceberg is next...whoops, I just remembered that I was supposed to write a happy fic...oooh...you guys are gonna hate me...how about the fic after this one be a happy one?